A Life Worth Living
by InMyFreeTime
Summary: Jethro's simple life gets flipped upside down when a run-in with a young Anthony DiNozzo changes his world for the better.


**A Life Worth Living**

 **Chapter 1: His Tony**

 **This is the first installment of a father/son story featuring Gibbs and Tony. Note: Gibbs is portrayed as a caring father figure.**

 **Disclaimer: I have no rights and do not own any NCIS characters in this story. The story line did come from my brain, though.**

Jethro Gibbs threw his hands in the air, effectively extracting a giggle from his daughter. Kelly had just turned a year old and was tucked comfortably inside her stroller as Shannon pushed her along. Sunday morning walks were a tradition in the Gibbs family, and Jethro made it a point to take a new route every time. This Sunday led them down a wide, beautiful street that was lined with well kempt, small-town-esque shops. On the corner sat a small two story motel that was nearly deserted due to the early hour, so the adults decided to take a stroll around it, admiring the landscaping. One of the corners of the motel was shoved up against a clump of tall trees, the balcony nearly obscured. Jethro's gut suddenly began churning and he put a gentle hand on Shannon's arm to stop her.

"What is it, Sweetie?" Shannon asked, used to her husband's 'gut feelings'.

"Shh, look," Jethro darted his eyes toward the disguised balcony where he could barely make out a man. Tall with dark brown hair, a little older than Jethro, and strangely, wearing a suit. His hand was clenched around a shoulder. A little shoulder. The shoulder of a boy. Murmurs began making themselves clearer, turning into angry, growled tones. The man began to shake the small boy in his grasp, and as the shaking grew, so did the feeling in Jethro's gut. He saw it happen, very quickly and quietly, but he saw it…and he was running. Shouting over his shoulder for Shannon to call 911, Jethro sprinted as fast as he could toward his target. The first indicator that things were about to get bad was the dull 'thunk' of the boy's head against the metal railing, not once, but three times. Once Jethro saw the man begin to pick the boy up and move toward the ledge, he had no more thoughts, he just ran. Still fifty feet away, the boy was in mid-air. Too late. He was too late. The boy's already lax body tumbled down through the trees and landed in a twisted heap on the beautifully trimmed grass below. In the corner of his vision, Jethro saw the shock on the man's face as he hurriedly backed up and ran into the motel room. But no, Jethro had eyes only for the boy. Skidding to a halt on his knees beside the little guy, realizing he couldn't be more than three years old, he prayed the ambulance would arrive quickly. Reaching out a shaking hand toward the boy's neck, he heard rapid footsteps and the rolling of wheels letting him know that Shannon had caught up.

"Jethro?"

"He's alive. Did you call?"

"Yes, the ambulance is on its way and motel security is chasing down the man. My goodness, Jethro, what just happened?" Shannon was clearly shaken, tears running streams down her face as she fought to hold back sobs.

"Something terrible, honey. Something terrible," Jethro sighed hard and returned his attention to the boy calling out gently when the boy began to groan, "Hey buddy, don't try to move just yet, okay? Shh, you're alright. Can you open your eyes for me, big guy?"

All that resulted was another small groan mixed with a painful sounding sob and Jethro was beyond relieved to hear the roaring sirens in the distance.

"Hang on buddy, we're gonna get you some help now. You're gonna feel all better real soon. It's okay, you're okay," Jethro continued to soothe the little boy the best he could as Shannon ran to lead the ambulance in. The paramedics made quick work of immobilizing and transferring the boy into the ambulance and were in the process of slamming the doors shut as one of the EMT's called out to Jethro.

"You coming with, sir?"

Jethro's eyes darted to Shannon and his baby girl and knew the boy was safe now. He had to make sure his girls were safe as well, "We'll meet you there," he threw over his shoulder at them and whipped out his phone to make a call.

"Stan, it's me. I need you to come pick me up at the motel off of Elm and 10th. Now."

Jethro was going to get his girls safe, make sure that little boy was okay, and get some damn answers.

* * *

After Shannon and Kelly were tucked safely away in Stan's car and orders to go straight home were issued, Jethro turned his attention to the hotel that was now teeming with LEO's. It appeared that the man had fled the scene, his car missing from the parking lot. Hotel staff could only provide the basics; Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. from Long Island, had been here with his son for three days. There was a BOLO out for his car, a red Ferrari…not exactly subtle, Jethro thought. There was no doubt that unless he ditched the car fast, they would be bringing him in for questioning very shortly. Denied lead on account of it not being NIS jurisdiction, Jethro was left as a frustrated witness. Catching a ride to the nearest station to give his statement, he asked about the boy, concern still lingering in an unfamiliar way. What kind of man would do that to his son? There was no excuse. It was inexcusable.

"It's okay honey, he'll be alright," Jethro was doing his best to reassure his wife that the boy would indeed live, if not be terrified of any and everybody for years to come.

"I don't know, J, I just want him to be safe. Did you see his precious face? I know this sounds crazy, but maybe we should take him in, ya know? Give him a safe place to live?"

"It's not that easy, babe. There are laws and the social worker will be placing him in foster care," Jethro paused, suddenly realizing what the unfamiliar concern in his gut was. He didn't want that kid in foster care with more people he didn't know, more people that could scare him. Though he was fairly confident in the system and was sure he would find a nice family, it wouldn't be HIS family. He wanted this child. He wanted a son.

"–and I just think we would be able to make it work, we could do this, Jethro, we really could!"

"I'll see what I can do, Shan," and with that he hung up and dialed the Director.

* * *

"The little shit is still alive? Damn it," Anthony DiNozzo seethed out between perfectly polished teeth, "Yeah, I threw him over the edge, I needed him out of my life. I needed him to never be in my life in the first place!"

As he was yanked up by his shirt and slammed unceremoniously against the wall, the sharp crack of his skull still not enough for any officer in the area, he threw out a little grin that got him "a lifetime in hell, dirtbag." Jethro shivered as DiNozzo was hauled past him into a holding cell to wait for transport to Leavenworth. That man wasn't a father. That man was a monster.

Attention drawn back to the voice speaking in his ear, he straightened his shoulders in triumph, "yes, Director. I appreciate it. Yes, I will be sure to thank SecNav too. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Jethro took a deep breath and smiled. It was happening. With some help from the big dogs, he was getting a son.

* * *

After calling Shannon and breaking the good news that Anthony was coming home with them as a foster-to-adopt placement as soon as they completed the required classes, and assured her he would watch over him tonight, Jethro found himself glued to a chair in the pediatric waiting room, hoping for the chance to see the boy again. The doctor came out and asked for family of Anthony DiNozzo. With a quick glance around the room, Jethro could see there was no one else here for him-as he expected, so he stood.

"That's me."

"Very well, right this way."

Following the doctor through the halls as he explained the sedation, the broken ribs and arm, and cracked skull, Jethro wanted very much to strangle someone. After silently thanking the director for adding his name to the approved visitors list, he entered Anthony's room. Among the bright colored walls and bedding, Jethro found the little boy, face bruised and limbs wrapped. Stepping forward, he gently grasped the little hand and whispered that everything would be just fine and he needed to be strong and get better now. Pulling up a chair, he found he couldn't take his eyes off the boy. He was in a trance. Each bruise like a knife through his heart. He vowed to forever keep this boy safe. He made a promise to never leave his side, to never treat him badly, to always love him. His son, his Anthony. No…his Tony.


End file.
